Eros
by Lycopene
Summary: Chapter 2: Mio thinks she doesn't know of love. She is wrong. [Three-shot] R
1. Pothos

Summary: There are times when she thinks she wants it. To hold her hand, to kiss her goodnight and to feel her skin against her own. Sometimes when her heart beats as fast as it does now, Ritsu wonders if this is how being in love feels like. [Three-shot]

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Dedicated to my awesome beta Southpaw Swordfighter! Thank you very much; this wouldn't have been published without your help and support. :D Let's all cheer!

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_Chapter I: Pothos_

_Erotes: [Greek and Roman mythology] __a number of named gods assigned particular associations with aspects of love._

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There are times when she thinks she wants it.

It's like any other day and they're both hanging out; she is on the floor flipping through manga while Mio is at her desk reading. It's simple. They are just keeping each other company, but thoughts cloud her mind and she timidly looks up from her manga pages where happily-ever-afters happen more often than not. Mio is beautiful; no other description of this undeniable fact exists. At least, not in her vocabulary. She can see her bite her lower lip in concentration, and there's excitement in her features as she reaches the climax of the story. It's a thick book. Unlike her best friend, she could never read books like that. Ritsu can see her face morph, her eyebrows high as she comes across something unexpected. There's something in the drummer's stomach doing a somersault, but she ignores it. It's nothing, she tells herself. Suddenly, like a child caught sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar, she is caught staring. Mio looks up, cheeks flushed, and Ritsu looks away. She does this too fast, and is afraid Mio notices. The bassist however, seems to be in her own world and just stares absently into space. Ritsu tries to ignore her and turns her page nonchalantly, having already forgotten what she was reading about. From the corner of her eye she sees Mio returning to her book eagerly soon after. Sometimes, when her heart beats as fast as it does now, Ritsu wonders if this is how being in love feels like. She shakes her head feebly and tries to concentrate on the manga again. She isn't like that.

She fails.

They are watching movies like any other day. It's Mio's pick this time around; Ritsu complains and is rewarded with a bruise on the head. Secretly, she actually does enjoy the romantic films because they always trigger a reaction in Mio, and Ritsu enjoys seeing this even more than the movie. All those sides of Mio only she knows about, the ones shown only to her—this is her other secret.

It's right in the middle of the movie and the protagonists are kissing. There's a close up of their lips and Ritsu sneaks a sideway glance. Mio is huddling behind a cushion, her face thoroughly enraptured by the rhythmic movements of the people on the screen, blushing cheeks and inquiring eyes. Motivated by curiosity, Ritsu observes Mio's lips and wonders if they are as soft as they look. She soon diverts her eyes; she is not supposed to think like that. The scene lasts a couple seconds longer. Nevertheless, the idea does not leave her; it's stuck in her mind. She chides herself next, "Don't, Ritsu, Don't", as her mantra.

The movie had romance as much as it had drama. By the end of it, Mio is in a pile of tears. She puts her head on her friend's lap and Ritsu just lets her be. No words, no teasing this time around. She focuses on untangling her tresses, passing her fingers through her long dark hair, time and time again while the bassist sniffs. Suddenly, she feels the droplets come to a stop as Mio relaxes into a more peaceful breathing rhythm. She tries to untangle her fingers from the dark locks and there's another sniff.

"Don't stop, please," her voice is a whispered request. Ritsu hesitates for the tiniest of moments. It is not in her nature to be gentle. It's odd and foreign for someone as brash as her, but she can feel Mio's soothed breathing against her lap and she smiles. _I could do this forever_, are her thoughts.

She complies.

Ritsu goes to bed thinking it is like any other day.

Except, it isn't.

The drummer wakes to the sound of something hitting the floor. Her heart is going a mile a minute; she stands up startled and runs to the living room. Adrenalin is pumping through her veins; fear rushing through all of her limbs. Her body is ready for a fight reaction, but not for the silhouette on the floor.

Mio is crying. Ritsu doesn't know the details, only that it's pitch black and all she sees are some books on the floor and a skewed tea table Mio had probably run into. Her friend is on the floor; dark hair covering her ashen eyes and heavy tears running down her face. Mio had gone to a mixer that day, after long hours of convincing from her sempai, she remembers. By the look on her face, Ritsu can only guess that something had gone awfully wrong.

She joins her by the floor, says nothing; asks nothing. Mio moves forward and grabs her hands. Her grip is so fierce she feels her hands go numb; her face is so close to her own that Ritsu could count the freckles on the top of her nose if she had any. Mio barely opens her mouth just to close it again, her lower lip quivering, her lips as pink as a peach. There's a sudden desire afflicting her chest. Seeing her in such a vulnerable state only heightens her longing. If only Mio knew how beautiful she was, if only Ritsu could tell her. But her breath gets stuck in her throat and the brunette doesn't know what to say. She can only look at her teary eyes and feel heartbroken. If only she could make her sadness go away, she would. If only…

It's a compulsion she can't stop: her hand reaches for her cheek, and Mio's eyes stare back at her uncertainly once she feels the hot touch. Her heart is sizzling, her throat unexpectedly dry. The desire to kiss her has never been more fervent than now, but Ritsu knows better. She can't do that.

It is at times such as these that she reminds herself that they will never be.

Mio is her friend, her best friend. She needs her and they need each other. Now is no exception. The desire, it can fade. The essence of her feelings for Mio will remain untouched. Whatever Mio needs her to be, she will be. There is no point in betraying her trust, not for something as fleeting as lust. She wants this; she doesn't need it. Mio is her best friend and it is enough. She may be in love with Mio; if such were the case, she would not deny it. Yet, she loves her. She loves her more than what it means to hold her hand, kiss her goodnight, and feel her skin against her own. This is the most honest truth her heart harbors.

At times like this, she reminds herself this is what it means to love someone.

Her thumb strokes her cheek gently. Mio's eyebrows knit together the slightest bit in confusion.

"It'll be okay, I'm here now," are her words. Mio's lower lip quivers intensely once more before she hugs her friend. There are tears staining her shirt now, but Ritsu doesn't care. Mio clings to her and Ritsu caresses her back to soothe her.

Her heart rate is a hundred a minute and she fears Mio can hear it. The essence of her hair teases her nose: lavender, it has always been lavender. It inebriates her. Her skin blazes with the feeling of Mio's breath against her neck. Suddenly, there's a pause. She feels her friend move away. Mio hugs her knees against her chest, and Ritsu is unexpectedly reminded of a child. The moment is lost, but she smiles. She listens intently as the bassist retells the happenings of her dreadful evening. It had been a boy; of course, it had to be about a boy. Mio is terrified of them and anything akin to social interactions with the male species. Perhaps, she should've gone with her like she had initially intended. The brunette remarks on this very same fact, not without poking some fun. They are laughing together by the end of the story and decide to call it a night.

Mio takes her leave first, but not before whispering a kind, "thank you" and gifting her with a smile. One of those smiles reserved only for her best friend. Ritsu's eyes do not leave her until her figure disappears behind a door. It's her heart that is glowing.

She knows these feelings could easily fade. Her resolution, however, will not waver.

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Author's Note:

Oh, I know. Been ages (literally) since I published anything. Don't have anything to say in my favor but that real life got in the way. I got author's block for the longest of times. But I made a New Year's resolution that I intend to accomplish. Wish me luck! So, I'm sorry for all of you that were/are looking forward to the sequel of "How to get inspiration for a song". I have good and bad news. Good news, I haven't dropped the project and have one chapter and a half written. Bad news, I won't publish it until I finish all three chapters. So….you will have to wait a little bit more. If there's any of you out there still.

I have two other projects aside from this one that I'm working on. One is Mio centric and the other one is an AU multichapter. If you are interested you can just follow me, and you'll find out in due time.

Thanks for reading! Looking forward to your reviews! [Comments, support, constructive criticism, anything! All is welcome] They'll give all the support I'll need from here on.

Wishes you a great New Year 2013,

Lycopene


	2. Himeros

_Summary: There are times when she thinks she wants it. To hold her hand, to kiss her goodnight and to feel her skin against her own. Sometimes when her heart beats as fast as it does now, Ritsu wonders if this is how being in love feels like._

Dedicated to my awesome friend, Majestic Mucus, whose birthday was quite some time ago! There are not enough excuses to justify my tardiness, so take this chappie as a belated b-day present, my friend! I worked really hard on it; I hope you like it as much as I do! Also, let's not forget to thank my one and only nitpicky beta extraordinaire, Southpaw, whose help and support pulled me through. :D

Let's all cheer and drop some belated b-day greetings to Majestic... *nudge nudge wink wink *

edit: oh my, oh my, forget that mistake early in the chapter ever happened. Forget it I say, forget it!

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Chapter II: _Himeros_

_Erotes: [Greek and Roman mythology] __a number of named gods assigned particular associations with aspects of love._

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She doesn't know of love. Her parents love her, she loves her parents. She loves her friends, her friends love her. But romantic love…

What is romantic love? Now, that is the question.

She watches couples intently. Perhaps, if she closes her eyes hard enough and lets her imagination fly, she'd feel it: the fire rousing from her entrails to her chest, the bubbly butterflies in her stomach or her palpitating heart.

And she yearns, but experiencing romantic love through others, through reading books—this is all she has. She would pucker her lips the moment the damsel kisses the hero; she'd close her book with excitement and blush at the idea of holding hands. Her energetic heart reverberates in her chest every single time, every single book.

Still, she does not know about love.

She does not know of sweaty hands, secret kisses or furtive love letters. Of the rushing of blood to the head, the quivering knees or the hectic rhythm of an enamored heart. And despite not knowing anything about it, love is all she wants to write about. Most of her songs, a serenade to a stranger.

She has never dated. Not a single boy. They terrify her with their dirty nails, rough speech and indelicate touch. They smell of sweat and fresh grass, and only think of sex. Or so she is told. And yet, all of her songs are still addressed to someone. An anonymous person whose existence she is unaware of. Or could it be that her heart hides the object of her affections? Could her heart be so devious? Or is it just the idea of love that makes her heart skip a beat?

No. She knows better.

She has been waiting all this time for a knight in shining armor, one whom she has fantasized about for most of her life. One who is clean and delicate, yet brave enough to slay dragons in her name. Nevertheless, she knows she can't continue with those fantasies forever. Childish fantasies; she is too old—too old to still believe such tales. And so, she gives up on the idea of a brave knight rescuing her on his faithful white stallion and of them riding away into the sunset together.

Now, that is silly.

"One sees clearly only with the heart, what is essential is invisible to the eye," she had read once. Love is like that, isn't it?

_And you stranger, I've fallen for you, wherever you are._

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The first time Akiyama Mio dreams about sex, she is sixteen. She feels disgusting.

She has never experienced this before. Someone else's touch on her skin, the sound of ragged and rhythmic breathing cluttering her ears, the heat building up in her abdomen and traveling to lower regions of her body. Gnawing, gashing, groping. The softness of lips wandering down the nape of her neck, and the roaming sensation of playful fingers, it is all too arousing. And she can just feel it rising like bubbles, higher, higher, effervescent water toppling over the glass, releasing her of all woes. A quiet death.

It overwhelms the senses, dissuading her mind from all kinds of rational judgment. It's just them in her room, and their melodic heartbeats in unison. Her hands immerse in brown tresses as she brings herself closer to the rosy lips.

Their eyes lock in a stare, grey into amber.

Akiyama Mio wakes up startled. Sweat travels down her back as she heaves another deep breath. Drowning on the border of death, she emerges toward the surface. She touches her burning face and is embarrassingly aware of another kind of burning she is experiencing. She stands up from her bed, wobbly knees and erratic heart, just to stare at herself in the mirror. She can see her empty and untidy bed behind her, but it is not enough to dissuade her heart. She touches the mirror with her palm and feels its cold surface against her skin. She can see the condensation of her breath taking over her reflection, but the image does not leave her.

It had all been so real.

She goes back to bed but does not sleep. The physical sensations quietly die down, unlike her restless mind. Disconcerting images repeat themselves over and over in her mind, tormenting her.

It had been Ritsu, the one in her dream. Her hands, her eyes, her body and skin.

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The first time Akiyama Mio consciously hides information from her best friend, she is seventeen. She feels ashamed.

Days silently pass by. Dreams lag behind her as schoolwork takes over her thoughts. They mean nothing, she tells herself. Dreams mean nothing. And she continues: Akiyama Mio goes on day by day as if nothing has happened.

Dreams can only be dreams.

Reality, she soon finds out, is much more cruel.

There are certain days where she is haunted by memories. They drive her to the edge and she can feel the blood rush to her face as she remembers. There is something in her stomach doing somersaults as images of naked bodies take over her vision. Obscure details of female anatomy and shameful but tingling sensations on her fingertips.

This is what she tells herself: dreams can only be dreams.

It is not enough.

She can sense it in her bosom the implantation of an idea roving through the depths of her heart. And deep down, she knows. She knows of her lingering stare, of her hesitant touch and sweaty hands. She secretly enjoys it, perhaps too much, like prohibited fruit from the Garden of Eden. Her days are longer, her sun is brighter, her nights more pleasant. And the words… the words flow inside her chest like a stream of turbulent water cascading down a mountain. Her feelings are a tempest, wild and unassailable, eager to find their outlet in the sea. Her words are to die in a sea of silence, hidden behind a joyful smile and innocent teasing. There are words in her heart not meant to be spoken aloud.

She lies in bed, restless. Obsessive thoughts are clouding her mind when an impossible idea forms in her head. Mio stares at the blank ceiling and feels something press against her chest—suffocating. And she is suddenly afraid, afraid of herself, and of what such revelations might mean.

Mio decides she does not like this new development.

And so, she resolves to do what she does best. Act like a coward.

She does not dream of Ritsu and sex again for the next two years. It remains a long forgotten memory in the back of her mind, hidden inside a drawer where she keeps everything she wants to forget, companions to her childhood fears.

It's March. It's their last break before the start of their last year of high school together. The brunette is resting lazily on her bed, abandoned orange peels lying beside her, amber eyes closed as rays of sunshine frame her face. Mio swiftly looks away to scribble ideas on a piece of paper. It is not a song about her, she convinces herself.

Time—time passes by, she doesn't know how…

"Mio?"

"Yes?" she can feel the drummer's eyes boring holes in the back of her neck.

"Are you alright?" Ritsu does not elaborate.

There is a pause.

"I'm fine," she stands up from her place on the chair as she closes her notebook, "maybe a bit cold," and makes her way to the window to close it with finality.

It's a sunny day outside.

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The first time Akiyama Mio kisses someone, she is eighteen. She does not like it.

She tries to get Ritsu off her mind. Forget about women in general; forget their softer features, warmer voices and curvier figures. Forget Ritsu's smile, petite body and cheerful eyes.

What would her parents say otherwise? What would her friends say? What would Ritsu say?

It is too much, too risky. It scares her.

Her feelings, she concludes, must be stopped before it's too late. If she wants their friendship to remain intact, she has to stop herself. Stop herself from gazing at her picture, from placing hidden meanings behind her words, from tagging around her all the time looking for excuses to spend time together, from finding furtive ways to touch her hand and brush her skin against hers, from writing so many songs about love.

No. That's not it. She has to be wrong. She is not in love with her.

It's a delusion.

College life begins with that conclusion.

She is swiftly overwhelmed by all the novelty. New classes, new classmates, new teachers, new campus. They do not share courses this time around. Much to her surprise, spending less and less time together proves not to be so difficult. College life is different. She doesn't even need to try to avoid being alone in the same room. They barely see each other on campus.

She hasn't been alone in a very long time. Fear grips her heart every day she makes her way to new rooms to meet new people. Strangers. It had always been Ritsu by her side, paving the way for her. Mio pushes through and endures, however. Slowly but surely, she comes to terms with her new reality, and it keeps her busy.

Still, day after day, whether it be long and tiring or short and pleasant, she can always count on Ritsu being there for her. That alone brightens her life. And Mio goes to bed every night with her welcoming smile, exciting tales and comforting words in mind.

She really is a coward. The smile never quite reaches her traitor eyes, the windows to her secrets. And Ritsu? She is both close and distant at the same time. She can't reach her, not in the way she yearns for.

So, Mio hides herself from her, runs away from her, but Ritsu is a visitor in her dreams—a nymph, teasing and arousing. These images do not leave her this time around. It soon becomes a compulsion, and Mio realizes she is losing herself to a mirage. To a nonexistent reality where she'd kiss her, all of her, all of her corners, all of her skin; where their bodies merge into one until soul and body are no more. A reality so obscure and intense, so intimate and deeply encrusted into her heart, it sets her ablaze the way fire consumes rose petals into ashes as it propagates throughout the wilderness of her essence. It is a ray of illumination within the darkness.

She is on the surface now, the image of her real feelings like the crystalline water of a spring. She is a fast learner, though, and masters the ways of self-control. There is no room for mistakes, she repeats to herself. Yet, there are times when she looks at Ritsu and she is afraid.

She sees her now, in front of her, and her heart speeds away. Mio stares her down, going through a repertoire of unspoken words and a fulminant gaze. A gaze so hard and strong it makes the brunette look her way.

Ritsu opens her mouth to speak. Mio does not understand her words. She can only follow the movements of ardent lips asking to be claimed.

"I asked if everything was okay."

"Yes," she breathes back, "I'm kind of tired of studying. I'll just go to bed."

She flees, like a cat running into its safe alley.

When her sempai ask her to attend a mixer, she initially declines. She is not familiar with boys, or strangers. They tell her they can invite Ritsu if she wants and that brightens her cheeks a brilliant pink. She accepts halfheartedly and not without prodding on their part. Perhaps, it is just what she needs to get her mind off things.

She could meet her knight there, she reasons. All is not lost. They can marry and have children together, and her current thoughts will forever remain a quiescent dream of adolescence.

When the day arrives, she discovers mixers are not really her thing. Of the entire party of twenty, she only knows two. She is rapidly abandoned by her sempai as soon as they set foot in the bar, and she decides to quietly sit in the corner by herself. The place is dimly lit; she does not like the atmosphere right away. Close by, a group of four is participating in some sort of drinking contest. And everywhere, there is noise, loud and irritating voices. She can listen in on a tacky conversation behind her and Mio feels disgusted. She doesn't recognize anyone in the vicinity and the anxiety builds up inside her chest. Mostly, though, she can feel their stares. Male stares, sneaky and indelicate. It makes her feel uncomfortable and naked, like a piece of meat. She hates it.

She meets him then. He makes a joke about something she does not understand, but she laughs anyway. Talking to someone is a welcome distraction from the lecherous gazes. He talks so quickly and animatedly that she can barely follow in his wake, but she endures. This is her chance. He buys her a drink, and Mio complies out of politeness, despite the fact she's never had an alcoholic drink before. She takes a sip or two before deciding it's not her style. He has auburn hair and a wide smile, fills all of her silences with laughs and for the first time that night, she feels comfortable. The weight is lifted off her chest when they leave the bar. It's two in the morning; time has passed too fast. He is studying business, she's learned, and hopes to expand on his father's corporate business. He is suddenly blushing when he asks to walk her home, the shiest she has seen him, and she accepts. She has seen the routine in movies, and a part of her is excited. Her heart skips a beat or two. Perhaps, everything has been a delusion after all.

She doesn't love her.

The walk is silent and tension rises. It's almost as if they both know of the impending moment that awaits them. He halts some steps away from the front gates and Mio mimics him. He's looking at her with an expression she can't pinpoint and her core constricts. The moonlight shines over them and time stops. She can sense the moment coming, she can see it in his eyes, that desire, and her heart halts.

She is frightened.

No, this is not what she wants. No.

She notices him inch closer to her, but she doesn't move. This is the moment. She has to know. She feels his lips bump hers and his hands on her lower back. She stiffens as his lips brush over hers ever so slightly. She is shaking. Akiyama Mio pushes him away after the longest of seconds. She wants to cry. There is no magic and there is no prince. There are no delusions.

Her childhood dreams shatter in that sole action.

The bassist runs.

She heads back to her apartment in a heap of tears and tumbles down after hitting her shin on a tea table. Ritsu is there suddenly and she can't help herself.

"It'll be okay, I'm here now," are her words. Mio hugs her like there is no tomorrow. She is not a child anymore and she has to let go of the childhood fantasies, of the denial.

She lies to her friend though, if only partially. There is a boy in her story, but no kisses and no annihilation of childhood dreams. The drummer jokes and laughs enough for both of them. Then, Mio rewards her with a smile and decides to call it a night.

She has not even reached her bed when the first sob escapes her mouth. A river of tears soon follows against her pillow. She cries herself dry that night.

She loves her too much.

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Author's Note:

I had this on my desktop "finished" since Valentine's Day. Why hadn't I uploaded it? Well, I don't really have many excuses aside from me being a perfectionist. I'm not saying this version is perfect, but it is now fine enough. You guys have no idea how many times Southpaw and I go over this. Lawl. So yeah, I'm not dead and I'm continuing it. Good news? It's spring break for me, so basically I'll have time to get my ass to write some more. Bad news? I'm kinda slow and lack motivation. So I'll need all your patience and support, you guys.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Looking forward to your reviews!

Best wishes,

Lycopene

P.S. This might change to a four-shot now. Ups. Although, I'm still considering it. Thoughts?


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